


Toaster Ovens Make Terrible Gifts, Steve

by monroesherlock



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, I've never been able to write fluff, M/M, Multi, Protective Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Feels, Steve cares, Steve loves Christmas, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, bucky doesn't like clothes, so angst it is, steve cares so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monroesherlock/pseuds/monroesherlock
Summary: While Steve figures out the perfect gift, Sam figures out how to navigate his family during the holidays. Bucky just wants to enjoy the cheese plate.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiseAgainPhoenix (matchsticks)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchsticks/gifts).



> My entry for the "ALL CAPS SECRET SANTA FIC SWAP" on tumblr! I had  
> [@riseagainphoenix](http://riseagainphoenix.tumblr.com/) and I really hope they like this. I haven't written anything substantial in months (and I've barely written any of these characters so I know the odds don't work in my favor.)
> 
> I admit a lot of both my personality and experiences (as well as my brother's) seeped into this story. I'm not sure how that happened. It's never been an issue before.

“A toaster oven? A toaster oven from the _television_? That's honestly the best you can do?” Steve doesn’t have to look to know that Bucky’s crossed his arms, probably leaned up against the wall because he thinks he’s cool. He’s probably shirtless because lord knows he can’t help himself. Steve ignores him, catalogs the mess he’s made of the living room instead and sighs. He’s gone through three reams of wrapping paper and six different bows. Their stupid cat (H _er name is Beyoncé - it absolutely is not this is a Navy house get out- ANTi was a joke Sam, **let it go**_ ) is making even more of a mess. She’ll play with wrapping paper but cat toys are beneath her. Honestly. 

Great, Bucky’s still going. “Everything the future has to offer and you come up with a goddamn tv toaster oven. Jesus what'd you get me? Socks?”

Steve tries the breathing technique Natasha taught him ( _try counting to 10 in another language - it gives you something to focus on other than Barnes’s ridiculous face_ ) and refuses to let the irritation show. He's thought long and hard about this gift.

“Yes. It's for breakfast. And other things. But mainly breakfast because, you know, Sam loves breakfast,” he says as calmly as possible. He doesn’t include the fact that yes, he _did_ get Bucky socks. They’re really fuzzy with penguins on them.  
“

He does. That is a fact,” Bucky agrees, “but for Christmas? Honestly, Stevie, it's an amateur move.”

“If you have something to say, Buck, say it. Don't beat around the bush.” Steve finishes off his bow and turns his gift around. It looks good, meticulously folded sparkling blue wrapping paper and finished with a white bow - just the right amount of flourish. Sam’s gonna love it. 

Bucky plops down next to him on the floor and pulls their cat into his lap. “You don’t get something utilitarian for Christmas. You have to put emotion in. Really feel it.”

“Of course. Why didn’t I come to the king of feelings for advice? A coupon book for sexual favors just screams feeling, Buck. Why didn’t I think of that myself?” Steve sticks his gift under their tiny living room tree and sets about cleaning up after himself.

“The best gifts are the one’s that improve the lives of all involved. Don’t come crying to me when Sam cashes in a kitchen blowjob and you’re stuck over there making breakfast. Besides, I didn’t just get him the coupon book.” Bucky nabs one of the candy canes from the tree and starts unwrapping it.

“Those are for the children.”

“I’m basically a child, the brain damage you know?” Bucky winks at him and pops a piece of candy cane into his mouth. Steve chucks a leftover bow at his head.

“Is there a reason the living room looks like Santa’s workshop threw up.” Sam’s home, a cold chill following him in through the front door. He drops his messenger bag and coat on the couch.

Bucky grins at him and waves. “Stevie just finished wrapping presents. You know how he gets.” 

“Oh boy, do I.” Sam leans over, kisses them both quick but sweet and heads to the kitchen. He pats Steve on the head. “I’m pretty sure we both told you not to stress about it.”

“It’s Christmas,” Steve says indignantly. 

Sam rolls his eyes but smiles all the same. “It sure is, baby. How could I forget?”

 

-

 

It’s two days before Christmas and Sam’s mostly just happy to have the time off. He can spend his nice little reprieve at home warm and content with his guys. Maybe he can convince Bucky to open that coupon book he thinks he’s hiding just a little bit early. 

“I thought you would visit your mom on Christmas morning. Like you do on her birthday.” Steve’s sitting at the kitchen table wearing one of those horrendous sweaters Scott passed out for his daughter’s Christmas card. It’s got a fucking stuffed reindeer attached to the front and every time Sam sees it, he wants to vomit. When will that trend die? 

“Gideon and I trade off. He and his wife get Christmas morning and I go in the afternoon. It’s more fun for the kids that way too, they get to open presents with grandma,” Sam shrugs and takes a sip of his apple cider. Steve can’t cook for shit but for some reason, he can mix one hell of a drink (his margaritas in the summer are a goddamn gift). “I’ll probably head over at about 2. Have some cookies, exchange gifts and come on back home. Wanna wait until then to exchange gifts? We can put on Mariah’s album and have hot chocolate?”

“If you’re sure,” Steve says carefully. Sam closes his eyes and takes a moment, just a moment, to enjoy the peace before he figures out what shit Steve is on about now.

“Is there something on your mind, Steven?” He asks.

“Not really. We should make cookies soon. Do you think your mom will trade me her snickerdoodle recipe for my eggnog?”

“First, you are never touching my oven again. Not without advanced supervision. Second, we’ve talked about avoidance. This, this right here is avoidance. Next thing you know you’ll be jumping out of an airplane without a parachute to avoid whatever _this_ is.”

Steve raises his eyebrow in that _way_ that means he knows. Knows when Sam is bullshitting. When he's running from something. 

Sam’s not really a fan of Christmas. He used to be before everything - and he means everything.

He loves his brother. Loves him despite everything because that’s what you do with family. Gideon never wanted him to go to war. Didn’t believe in it and said Sam would rather run off to die in some desert than work on their issues at home. “Issues” are code for all the things his family just doesn’t talk about. “ _You know, Sam and that white boy, they’ve got a few issues._ ” Then Riley died and Gideon had the nerve to say, “ _maybe things worked out for the best. Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be-”_ Sam hung up the phone _._

He hasn’t talked to his brother or that part of his family since. He spends his time with his mama and pays the rest of them dust. He’s an adult.  
Leave it to Steve to fall headfirst into Sam’s “issues.” It’s almost like a specialty of his or something.

“It’s nothing really. You’re brother called and I guess I misunderstood.”

Sam nearly drops his mug. 

“You talked to Gideon?”

“Yeah, he said his kids were really excited to see you. He and his wife want to get together for coffee.”

“With who? You? Does he know who you are? What we are?”

Steve’s brow furrows at that. “Okay. I'm starting to think I made a mistake.” 

“No?” It must sounds as funny to Steve’s ears as it does to Sam’s because steve’s giving him The Look™. “We’ve got a history. It’s difficult.”

“I see,” Steve says and Sam knows damn well he doesn’t see anything. 

“Well avoidance is never good, you know. Next thing you know you'll be following some crazy guy halfway around the world and breaking international laws like a bull in a china shop.” 

“Steven.”

“Yes?”

“Drink your cider.”

 

-

 

Gideon hasn’t changed much. His hair’s a little gray at the temples and the frames on his glasses are different but altogether, he looks the same. Sam tries his best not to fidget. He doesn’t know if he’s succeeding. He let Gideon pick the cafe because, well, because he didn’t really want to be there and making decisions would just make it worse. 

Bucky’s a bad influence. 

“I saw you in D.C. That was impressive.” Gideon says quietly. “Mom was really worried but she knew you’d be okay.”

“It was a lot.” Sam agrees. Gideon nods awkwardly and looks around the small space. Should Sam have stayed in bed? He should have stayed in bed.

“You’re dating a national icon. What’s that like?”

“Two national icons. Or one national icon and a national disaster if you want to be fair.” Sam shrugs. Might as well lay it all out there.

Gideon doesn’t look too shaken. “That’s new.”

“Not really.”

Gideon stares at his plate. He hasn’t touched his scone. Probably because scones are fucking gross, Sam thinks.

Finally, his brother lets out a long sigh and uncrosses his arms. “This is way more awkward than I thought it would be.”

“Is it?”

“Well, yeah.” he scoffs. “It’s Christmas and my brother hates me because I’m an asshole.”

“You sure are.” Sam agrees. “But I don’t hate you. Never did.” 

“Good to know.” Gideon squints at him and pushes his plate away. “No bullshit. Nothing I say will undo the past, Sam. I know that. I fucked up.”

“Yeah. You did. And I’m not exactly over it. Probably never will be. That’s kind of the rules of family I guess.”

It’s not easy and they don't hug or smile but Sam agrees to Christmas morning and maybe lunch the week after. Family is exhausting.

 

-

 

“Do you feel any better?” Steve asks seriously. He’s got one hand, on the back of Sam’s neck, rubs his thumb in soothing circles.

“No. Not really.”

“Family will do that.” Bucky’s sprawled out across both their laps picking from the cheese plate with his fingers like a savage. Steve put out toothpicks for a reason. They’re up later than usual, sitting their living room in front of their tiny tree.

“Would it kill you to put on clothes?” Sam laughs. Bucky’s in just his boxers tossing pieces of salami at their cat.

“It just might. Besides, it’s Christmas.” He points to the wall clock. It’s midnight. Sam’s got to get up to go meet his family soon. Sam doesn’t look excited at the prospect. 

“You know, I still need to talk to Darlene about that recipe.” He says. “I think I'll have to go with you on your visit.”

Sam gives him a slow smile. 

“You're not subtle.”

“Good. I wasn't trying to be.” Sam kisses him then slow and sweet. 

“Don’t be gross. It’s Christmas.” Bucky shakes himself. “Sam put out all this cheese. The least we could do is enjoy it.”

“The least you could do is put on pants, you heathen.” 

“I don’t know, I don’t exactly mind the view.” Bucky shoots them both a salacious smirk before hoisting their cat up onto the couch. Overall, it’s a wonderful night. Sam’s not even worried about the presents.

 

-

 

  
Okay, he’s a little worried.

 

  
Worried enough to open them just a little early.

 

 

 

-

 

“Shit, is this a toaster oven? Now I want breakfast pizza. Does anyone else want breakfast pizza? This is great. I’m gonna go plug it in.” Steve resists the urge to pat himself on the back.

He doesn’t resist the urge to give Bucky the finger.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always you can find me on my tumblr right [here](http://bittlebarnes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
